"Which would you have, a sack coat or a cutaway?"

"I don't think that I know the difference," said he suavely.

I turned in despair to Mr. Le Count Schooners. "Don't you think," said I, "that very tight trousers are the proper thing?"

"Oh, distinctly, distinctly," he replied. And he turned away his face with a blush.

But his brother interrupted him by saying that in this winter weather, loose trousers were better than tight, because cooler. And with this he threw up the window and hung his head out, letting in a freezing draught. I presented him with his straw hat and requested him to go. He would not leave, however, until I had demonstrated the necessity of such a course by the theory of limits, - the limits of human forbearance.

After his departure I promptly shut the window and, turning around, addressed myself to "For the Register."

"Might I petition to have more heat in this room?"

"You must write it out," said she, and she gave me a slip of paper. In my hurry I made two or three mistakes and had to tear off a piece. When I had finished it I presented it to her.

"I wish," said she, "that you had returned me all my paper. As for the petition, it needs further explanation."

"Good heavens!" I answered in exasperation, "I have n't time to explain. Mr. Smilin, you are a proficient in Pretty Pol. Econ. Can you not tell me what sort of a garment suits best a very unproductive consumer?"

"In rega'd to this matter," he rejoined, "I think it can be best understood by means of a simile. Take for instance a three-legged stool, such as you often see in the kentry. If you raise one leg - "

"But I could n't, in these trousers. They're so tight that I have to keep my leg perfectly rigid for fear they 'll tear."

"Ah, I see," said Professor Agony, looking over his shoulder. "They're made in the dominant fashion. The resolution of this question of diminished tone depends upon whether the previous cadence of fashion has come to an authentic close, - I mean come to an end. I mean - no, rub that out. You know you must n't have too much unity in variety, nor too much variety in unity, but just enough unity of - "

His voice fainted away in a plaintive cadence of semi-tones, and he glanced absent-mindedly at the ceiling. Then, recollecting himself : -

"I owe you an appoggiatura. I forget what I was about to say - Oh! Your trousers. The trouble with them is that they are not in pure style - they're really quite too, too supertonic."